without bother i try harder than running-around-on-you maybe someday games that you play will get old to you, too i count on my fingers the things i thought i knew and sabotage the mirage of our future cause if i were a winner like you wanted me to be then wouldn’t i fix everything for free? riddle-writing nights have explained more about you to me than any lines i’ve drawn from a to b when i come down from my seek-around will you catch me then? i’m hot as a potato when i’m out of the oven watch me, watch me as i fall from grace baby, baby will you cover your face?